


Nice to Meet You Anyway (The Not Like This Remix)

by celli



Category: American Idol RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe, Character of Color, Community: calledmelovely, M/M, Remix
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-06-28
Updated: 2011-06-28
Packaged: 2017-10-21 01:28:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,029
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/219384
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/celli/pseuds/celli
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Brooke was fixing him up.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Nice to Meet You Anyway (The Not Like This Remix)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [cinderlily](https://archiveofourown.org/users/cinderlily/gifts).
  * Inspired by [Nice to Meet You Anyway](https://archiveofourown.org/works/79970) by [cinderlily](https://archiveofourown.org/users/cinderlily/pseuds/cinderlily). 



> **Notes:** Thanks to trinaest, cincodemaygirl, rajkumari905, and thestarsexist for handholding and beta.

Brooke was fixing him up. Archie thought, through an increasing sense of panic, that he should really be used to this. In the years since he’d won American Idol, he’d gotten used to having his hair, his face, his clothes arranged and rearranged without much say-so on his part.

In his defense, though, he’d never told the people styling him and making him up that he was, well, gay, and they’d never been fixing him up so he could go out to a gay bar and—and wait, that was Carly headed his way with eyeliner.

Archie didn’t realize he’d run for the bathroom until he’d actually locked himself in it. He stared at the back of the door, which had a flowered robe hanging from the back of it, and tried to make himself undo the lock. Tried, and tried.

“Archie?” Brooke called through the door. “…Honey?”

“I changed my mind!” Archie leaned his forehead against the chill of the mirror.

“About being gay?” one of the guys said from out in the hotel room. A clear smack followed.

Despite the terror still churning in his stomach, Archie smiled. He cracked the door open and stuck his head out. Five of his favorite faces looked back at him—and okay, they had bought him creepy magazines and put him in a tight T-shirt and come at him with eyeliner, but they had been with him for every crazy minute of the last five years.

“You might as well come out,” Johns said. “We’re going to find you the love of your life whether you want it or not.”

Archie’s hand twitched on the door handle, but Brooke slapped a hand out to keep it from closing.

And then, of all people, David Hernandez spoke up from where he was lounging in a corner. “Guys, maybe we should start small.”

“What?” the other four asked in near-unison.

“Yes,” Archie said. “Wait, what does that mean? Do I kiss someone short, or—“

David held up a hand. “What you need, Archie, is a rehearsal. You didn’t perform ‘Imagine’ on the Idol stage without going over it a million times first, right?”

Archie nodded.

“Okay, so, the bar downtown is the main stage, and the bar here in the hotel is the rehearsal hall.”

Archie hadn’t even realized there was a bar in the hotel.

“I was down there before and checked it out. It’s perfect. Very low-key. I’m going to go down there, and then you’re going to come down and pick me up.”

“But—I don’t want to pick you up,” Archie said. There was a muffled sound to one side, but when he looked over, Syesha was examining the painting on the wall nearest her.

“I’m crushed,” David said dryly, “but that’s okay. It’s just rehearsal, remember?”

“Rehearsal for picking someone up.”

“Yes.”

Archie looked around the room; they all looked back at him with various expressions of amusement and/or resignation.

“Good then,” David said, and disappeared out the door before Archie could say anything else, like, “wait,” or “stop,” or “never mind, not gay!”

***

The bar was surprisingly well-lit, compared to Archie’s vague expectations. There were people clustered in one corner being loud and cheerful, and more tables toward the back where it was a little quieter. Archie saw a bottle of David’s favorite beer on one of the tables, but no sign of him.

He approached the glass-topped bar. It had rows of fancy labels underneath the glass – a bunch of different ones with monks, for some reason, and a girl with a lot of playing cards and not a lot of clothes, and a pink elephant that was kind of mesmerizing.

“You want one?”

“What?” Archie looked up at the bartender.

“Delirium Tremens. It’s a Belgian ale.” The guy tapped on the glass above the label.

“Oh! No, I was just—“ Archie looked around the room again, trying not to show desperation. Still no David. “Um. Can I just have a water?”

“Sure.”

Archie watched the bartender out of the corner of his eye. He was tall and pale, with hair that looked reddish-brown under the bar lights and a short-cropped beard. He had broad hands that moved so easily as he worked, Archie could easily imagine them moving across a piano keyboard. Or—

Instead of putting the glass down on the bar, the bartender held it out to Archie, who took it dumbly. The glass was slippery on the outside, and their fingers brushed against each other as he took it.

“You can wait here for your friend,” the bartender said.

“My friend?” Archie asked blankly, his eyes on the rolled-up sleeve in front of him and the hint of a tattoo peeking out from under it.

“Whoever you keep looking for.”

“Oh.” Archie blinked, then looked around again. The beer was gone, but—so okay, it probably wasn’t David’s. The group behind him got louder all of a sudden, and Archie slid into the nearest chair. “Okay, thank you. Should I—“ He barely remembered to put the water down before reaching for his wallet.

“I’ll run you a tab,” the bartender said with a quirk of a smile. Archie mirrored the smile without really even thinking about it.

“Right. Thanks, um—“

“David.”

“Where?” Archie half-turned.

“Here?” The bartender pointed at himself. “My name’s David.”

“That’s weird,” Archie said. “So’s mine. And so’s—“ he gestured behind him. “My invisible friend, you know?”

That got him a laugh, and Archie’s grin got bigger.

“You can just call me Archie. Everyone does.”

“Is that your middle name?”

“My last name’s Archuleta,” Archie said, and saw the flash of recognition cross David-the-bartender’s face.

But all he said was, “Cool. My last name’s Cook, and half my friends call me that anyway. And your invisible friend can just be David.”

Archie started to say something about David, but a waitress appeared out of nowhere with orders for more drinks for the loud group, and Archie took incremental sips of his water and watched Cook work over the edge of his glass.

“You’re really good at that,” Archie said when the waitress – Lily, according to her nametag – had hurried off, balancing an impossibly full tray of drinks.

“At beer?” Cook rubbed a towel down the surface of the bar, then flicked it up and over his shoulder in one swift move. “Yes. I’m great at beer.”

“At all this.” Archie indicated the whole behind-the-bar area. “It’s like magic.”

Cook shrugged with one shoulder. “The devil you know, I guess.” He planted his elbows on the bar across from Archie and leaned forward. There was a glint of light off some necklace under the collar of his dress shirt. “What were you going to say before?”

Archie had no idea. But—“What’s your tattoo?” he asked, before he thought about it too hard.

There was a long, awful pause where Cook just looked at him blankly. But then he looked down at his arm. “Oh, this one?”

“You have more than one?”

Cook’s face lit up. “You have no idea.”

Archie took a really big gulp of water.

***

The empty water glass sat forgotten on the bar while Cook sketched out another tattoo design on a napkin. “On your wrist, though?” Archie was asking. “Wouldn’t that hurt?” He rubbed his own wrist just thinking about it.

Behind Cook, Lily rolled her eyes as she grabbed another beer. Archie made an apologetic face, but she waved her hand at him in silent dismissal. Most of the other customers were gone by now, anyway.

Archie’s attention snapped back as Cook took his wrist and turned it up. “But wouldn’t it look great?” Cook asked. “Right here?” He traced a line across the inside of Archie’s wrist. All of a sudden Archie could feel his pulse beating double-time against Cook’s grip.

“Maybe it would look good on you,” he said, his voice a little low. He took Cook’s free hand in his and turned it over. Something familiar caught his attention and half-distracted him. “Are those guitar calluses?” He brushed his thumb across the pads of Cook’s fingers; Cook’s hand jumped a bit in his, then relaxed.

“Yeah. I’m—I’m in a band,” Cook said.

“That’s awesome! Why didn’t you say that before, when I was talking about how you were good at beer?”

Cook kept his eyes down and his hands still. “After I remembered how I knew your name, I didn’t want you to think I was, you know. Taking advantage, or—“

“That’s just dumb,” Archie said. He closed both hands awkwardly around Cook’s. “You’re not like that.”

“Yeah?” Cook asked. He looked up, his face barely inches from Archie’s. “How do you know that?”

“Cook,” Archie said softly, and after a second, he felt Cook’s hands move to grab his in return.

***

Lily kicked them both out at one. “I can close up without your expert help, Mr. Cook,” she said. “Why don’t you walk your gentleman caller to his door?”

Archie felt his whole face and neck heat up. Cook was a little pink around the edges himself, but he picked up the tip jar and handed it, still full, to Lily. “You are a treasure,” he said, and motioned for Archie to lead the way out of the bar.

The walk across the lobby and the wait for the elevator seemed to take a million years. Archie was achingly aware of Cook’s presence next to him, large and warm and impossible to ignore. They finally made it into the elevator and Cook turned to Archie as the doors—

“Hang on, hold the door!”

—slid back open to admit David Hernandez, who bounced in with a smile for Cook and a wink for Archie. “Oh, good, seven, that’s me too,” he said, and faced front, leaving Archie staring openmouthed at his back.

There was a tug on his sleeve, and Archie looked up to see Cook raising his eyebrows at him.

“That’s David,” Archie whispered.

Cook’s eyebrows went up even further. “But he was in the lobby the whole time,” he whispered back.

“Doing what?”

“Watching rehearsal,” David said, and the squeak of the doors opening on the seventh floor fortunately covered the choking sound Archie made.

David waved over his shoulder and disappeared out the door. “Don’t say I never gave you anything!” echoed down the hall.

The doors started to shut again, but Cook stuck a foot out to stop them. “I feel like I’m missing something here.”

“Welcome to my life,” Archie said under his breath.

The hall was empty by the time Archie stopped in front of his door, although he could hear scuffling across the hall that was probably five highly paid and talented professional musicians fighting over the peephole.

“So,” he said, looking over at Cook.

“So,” Cook said looking back at him. “You probably have a big day tomorrow or something.”

“I probably do,” Archie said. He had no idea. “Will you be—are you working tomorrow?”

Cook shook his head, and Archie’s heart fell. “I actually have a gig tomorrow night.”

“Can I come?” Archie blurted.

Cook’s whole face lit up. “Really? Yeah!” He fumbled in his pocket and brought out one of the tattoo cocktail napkins. “Here, call me—“ He scribbled a number on it. “I’ll set it up.”

“Great.”

“Okay. Great.”

They smiled at each other a minute more, and then Cook said, “So I should—“

Archie kissed him. They stood frozen there for a second, and then all of sudden Archie’s back was against the door and Cook’s hands were clutching at his shirt and the scuffling across the hall turned into shrieks and banging.

Cook finally pulled back and said, “I should go, is what I was going to say.”

“Right.” Archie pulled his hands back from where they were wrapped around Cook’s forearms. “Right. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Yeah.” Cook brushed one last kiss across Archie’s lips and stepped away. “Nice to meet you, David Archuleta.”

The other door burst open as Cook stepped into the elevator, and Archie breathed out, “Nice to meet you too, David Cook,” just as his friends descended on him.


End file.
